


47. Heart

by wicherwill



Series: 100 prompts [8]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: F/M, Fluff, uploaded as is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23372683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicherwill/pseuds/wicherwill
Summary: More stories set in a vague future where Eriol and Tomoyo are students at a vague Oxbridge setting
Relationships: Eriol Hiiragizawa/Daidouji Tomoyo
Series: 100 prompts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680868
Kudos: 13





	47. Heart

As he refolded the tiny slip of pink paper into some origami fowl or mammal or heavenly object, he couldn’t help but think that this was, in some way, Clow’s Fault. Because everything was so much nicer as _his_ fault.

The teacher droned on, and he unfolded his misshapen duck-thing. There, in an irritatingly innocuous script, was the same name.

_Daidouji Tomoyo_.

It just had to be Clow.

Honestly, who else would give him her for a secret Valentine’s Day gift exchange? Because, really, it wasn’t enough that he’d been pining after her for six years and roughly eight months from the day that she opened the door to Sakura’s house following that whole Void nonsense.

Because, frankly, it wasn’t enough that he’d moved back home in an attempt to stay away, only to find her sitting in the lobby of his apartment complex halfway across the globe.

Because, truthfully, it wasn’t enough that he had to be her best friend and confidante and de facto date and substitute father and brother and just spend every waking moment with her (and every other moment thinking about her).

The bell rang, and instantly the classroom began shuffling around, moving papers and books into large bags. Eriol crumpled the slip into a ball, tossing it in the trash on the way out.

Because it wasn’t as if he was going to forget—

“Eriol!”

—exactly. He smiled in greeting (not that he could voluntarily refrain from doing so). “How was your final?”

“Not fair at all. There was definitely material there that we weren’t supposed to have covered.”

“Yet, the next sentence out of your mouth shall be,” he mimicked a high falsetto, “But I managed to squeeze in a 27th hour in my day, after curing cancer and before solving world hunger.”

She simply smiled back in response, apparently deciding against making a retort. “That doesn’t even merit a response, Eriol, and you know it. Where’re you headed?”  
  


“Home. I have an incredible amount of work to do, despite it being finals week.”

“What a coincidence! You can carry my books for me.”

Eriol groaned good-naturedly while taking the proffered texts. “It’s not as if you carry around textbooks or anything, you know.”

“But I’m so frail and weak. And pale, you know how Mother is about my being pale.” She waved a thin wrist in front of his face, unknowingly wafting perfume.

Eriol concentrated on not going cross-eyed. “Yes, yes, so weak that you muscled your way onto the management board of our beloved complex.”

“Speaking of which, I’m sure that you went and picked up your Valentine’s Day assignment?”

Now he had to concentrate on not blushing. Syaoran, he mused, would be highly amused. “Yes, I did. Why, did you?”

“What sort of a question is that? Of course. My idea, anyhow, and don’t you dare say anything. I see that look on your face.”

Eriol shut his mouth pointedly before replying, “I wasn’t planning on being negative. I think it’s a…” His brain had apparently decided to go on hiatus. “It’s a great way to spread around the cheer of the holidays.”

“Nice catch. Don’t think I didn’t see that fumble. So…?”  
  


“So…?”

“Oh, come on.”

Eriol gave her a look. “It would appear I am doing so.”

“Eriol…”

“Tomoyo…”

“Don’t you play coy, that’s my job.”

“It’s not playacting, it’s genuine confusion.”

Tomoyo huffed. “Who do you have? Obviously.”

“Well, obviously it’s not that obvious. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be a secret? Hence the name?”

“Pish posh. I want to know.”

Eriol could feel his heart thudding in his ears, but he forced himself to answer lightly. “Well, then, I suppose you’ll have to find out at the final unveiling dinner.”

“Oh, fine. Be that way. I won’t tell you who I have either.”

“Well…oh, look. Home sweet home.” Eriol looked up at their complex, the stately building which compromised some of off-campus dwelling, and privately noted that the walk here had never been longer.

They both walked silently inside, preoccupying themselves with pulling out their room keys and coaxing the ancient elevator to make it all the way up to the top floor.

Once there, Tomoyo turned to him, easily taking back her books. “Don’t think I won’t find out who you have.”

Eriol grinned widely, knowing himself to be channeling the Cheshire—

“Don’t do that, you know that face creeps people out. Honestly, it’s as if you’re that crazy cat from the Alice movie. The Cheshire Cat.”

The grin dropped off his face immediately. Smiling normally, he tipped his head to her and moved to his room.

_Damn._

_  
Damn damn damn damn._

_And, just for good measure…damn._

He could feel his daily soliloquy coming on. The one in which he asked himself, _why her?_ _Why not someone else? Anyone else? So many girls would take you without a single question?_ And then he answered himself in a heartbeat: _Because it’s her and no one else comes close._ Finally, he tortured himself, listing all the reasons why she was perfect— _her smile, her eyes, her hair, her wit, her charm, her kindness, her intelligence…_

Unbidden, his eyes fell on a violently pink book on his cookbook shelf. Taking it off the shelf, he noted the jam stains. _Ah. Ruby Moon_.

It was a book of ridiculous desserts. Normally, Eriol wasn’t much of a dessert person, preferring to stick with simple cheese and fruit dishes. Tomoyo, however…she had developed quite a sweet tooth…

Eriol sat at his kitchen table, absentmindedly flipping through the book. He could hear Ruby and even Spinel in his head, chastising him for being such a weakling. “ _Eriol, do something already.”_

_“Hai, Eriol-sama, Ruby might have a point for once.”_

_“I always have a point, Suppi. Whether or not you acknowledge it is a different matter.”_

_“Perhaps something out of the ordinary? Daidouji-sama is no ordinary girl.”_

_“You can’t give Tomoyo-chan flowers. Honestly. Tomoyo-chan is the type of girl who coordinates every outfit down to the—well, let’s just down to the last detail.”_

_“Don’t encourage him, Ruby, he’s bad enough as it is. Look, he’s off again, daydreaming.”_

_“That’s not my fault. I’m trying to help him with unique suggestions that will show Tomoyo-chan that he’s not the frumpy Eriol who she’s known for a million years. It’s his loss if he dazes off.”_

Eriol shook his head, trying to clear the remnants of his guardians’ voices. The book flopped open to a point where the spine had been cracked, obviously by Ruby in (failed) attempt to make…Seductive Snickerdoodles? Enticing Éclairs? Charming Cupcakes? What _was_ this book?

He flipped to the table of contents. Easy 30-Minute, International, Cold…ah. Holiday Desserts.

Suddenly, with all the subtlety of a ton of bricks, it hit him.

Tomoyo, for reasons completely unknown, loved Valentine’s Day, despite never having been in a serious relationship during the day. He, after having experienced the holiday a number of significant times, had never expressed any particular interest one way or another.

He would, he decided, go all out this year. After all, she wouldn’t know until the last night. There were two presents, plus the final present on the actual day itself. He could save the baking for later, and then…well, Spinel said that Tomoyo was too special to receive ordinary flowers. Surely extraordinary flowers would do the trick?

Grabbing the phonebook and the cordless, he settled down.

~

“Oh, Eriol, look out!”

Eriol froze, and then looked at where Tomoyo was pointing. At his feet was a small, non-descript box that bore the university’s logo. “What’s this?” Recognizing the packaging from the school store, he opened it and found a small key chain with the school logo. An accompanying note, also on a school-store-card, said ‘I think you’re really hot and smart. Please be mine?,’ with a number of grotesque smiling faces.

“Let me see. I think I…oh, I definitely recognize that handwriting.” She giggled, apparently thrilled. “It’s so cute. Just wait.”

Eriol smiled back, protesting only weakly when she insisted on looping his newfound gift onto his keys.

“There. Doesn’t that look nice? She’ll be thrilled, really.”

“See, Tomoyo, the thing is that…I…sort of…don’t really…”

“Yes? Can we walk and talk? I have an important lecture, I need a good seat.”

Eriol nodded mutely, casting around for something to say. As the elevator descended, he felt himself get slightly frantic. What had he been thinking? The minute the doors opened, waiting would be—

“Miss Tomoyo Daidouji?”

Tomoyo gave Eriol a confused look before affirming, “Yes?”

“I have a shipment for you.”

“Oh, Ms. Daidouji, one here too.”

“I have another!”

“A fourth’s over here, after these guys.”

Eriol noted how Tomoyo’s eyes widened with a small bit of satisfaction. In front of them were four highly unique flower arrangements. He had called the top four florists in area, told each to make something out of their oddest flowers, and then asked for delivery.

Tomoyo signed off on all four bouquets, her face perfectly composed. Once all the delivery men had left, she casually turned around and headed for the elevator, subtly stomping on his foot as she did so.

As soon as the doors slid shut, she turned to him, her arms full. “This is ridiculous!”

Eriol blinked once, twice, trying to find a suitable response. “I’m sorry?”

“How can you not find this absurd? Four? I mean, sure, one. Maybe even a single, beautiful red rose. But four? Granted, they are all very different looking, and they smell great, but…”

The floor dinged, and she exited. “Hold on for one second, I’ll be right back out. Argh, I really wanted that seat, too…”

Eriol nodded at her back, unable to think of anything else to say.

~

“Ah.” It was the best reaction he could come up with, faced with a present that rivaled his in intensity. Hiro, the only other Japanese honors student at the university, had to be the lucky guy with Tomoyo as his secret Valentine. An enormous, themed basket stood in the mailroom, with his name in her poorly disguised handwriting.

Eriol tried not to glare daggers at the popular, smart, intelligent, violin player as he walked out. Afterall, the poor boy was blushing. Like a lobster.

“Isn’t that so adorable?” Tomoyo asked him, sifting through her mail.

He felt himself start to blush, but it wasn’t from embarrassment.

~

There was something highly satisfying about crossing off lists. As it stood, his list consisted of one item—‘Flowers’—with one large slash. He carefully added ‘Baking,’ grabbing his apron as he did so.

Four hours later, his table filled to the brim with various baked goods, the thought crossed his mind that his thought might not be equally reciprocated.

That was an old Eriol thought, he reminded himself sternly. New Eriol wasn’t afraid of rejection.

No, he was terrified of it.

What else explained his constant tiptoe-on-edge demeanor around her? Somewhere in their enormously complicated dynamic, she had become the forward, engaging one, and he’d become the passive follower. Not that he minded—no, not one bit.

Sometimes, he’d daydream about telling her. Sitting in the back of class, he’d drift off, imagining all the possible scenarios in which he would confess.

They all Ended Badly.

_“Ah, look, Eriol’s chickening out again! How cute!”_

Ruby’s voice filtered through his musings, persistent and annoying.

_“He just thinks and thinks and never does anything!”_

Groaning, he put his head in his hands. _Why Tomoyo?_

~

“I’m so sorry, Eriol. The note’s funny, though.”

Eriol frowned good-naturedly. His secret Valentine, apparently of the last-minute sect, had bought him a lovely school water bottle still in the blue plastic bag. As Tomoyo had said, however, the note was…well…slightly tiring, to say the truth. Eriol had had his share of anonymous love notes, and the idea of publicly having to acknowledge the receipt of these at the upcoming party wasn’t very appealing. “Can’t you at least tell me who it is?”

“Nope!” Tomoyo grinned devilishly. “Although if you mistreat her, I might have to kill you.”

“Lovely. I’ll be on my best behavior. What about you?”

“Nothing so far. Let’s hope it’s not an allergic nightmare. The smell in my apartment was nauseating yesterday. I took around a hundred aspirin before going to bed.”

_Nice going_. “Is it still bad?”

“Actually, it smells nice now. I wouldn’t go through all that hassle, but—oh.”

After having spent half the night working on the basket in which all the food had gone, he hadn’t quite taken the time to sit back and appreciate the entire…aesthetic. Then again, a brown paper sack would have done fine, too. It was slightly hard to unappealingly pack four feet of backed goods.

“Well, I’d better find a new dress to wear tomorrow.”

Eriol looked at her slim figure, incredulous. “I can’t believe that.”

“You’re right, but I can’t quite think of anything else to say. Who on earth has time to do this sort of thing?”

“Don’t look at me. I was up half the night with the Kasson paper.” Actually, he’d finished that over the weekend.

“Same here. Okay, well, grab one side?”

Eriol chuckled and picked up the whole basket easily. “Where to, milady?”

Tomoyo shook her head and moved back to the elevator, inspecting the package as she did so. “This actually looks good. I seriously don’t think I can eat it all, though. Promise me you’ll split it?”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“I know you hate dessert, but even you couldn’t say no to…um…all this. Come on in, what are you waiting for?”

Eriol had paused outside her door. The funny thing was, she’d come to his apartment before, but he’d never set foot in hers. Steeling himself, he marching on in, kicking off his shoes.

“Tsk, tsk. A four-foot basket is no excuse for messiness,” she chided, fixing his shoes.

Eriol set the basket down in the kitchen and looked around. As he expected, the whole apartment was decorated with impeccable taste, each room’s motif subtly fading into the next. “You’ve done an excellent job here, Tomoyo.”

“That’s right, you’ve never been here. Well, this is home sweet home. Obviously, you know where everything is—” all apartments consisted of the same layout “—and now you can visit more often. Or visit, period.”

Eriol was about to respond when a picture on the mantle caught his eye. Tomoyo was standing, obviously in concert attire, her arm slung casually around Hiro, who was equally dressed. “When was this?”

“Hmm? Oh, that was the concert. You know, the one I asked you to play with me in? And you refused? I was desperate, and I ran across Hiro. Turns out he plays the piano, too, and so he accompanied me. He’s not bad, actually.”

Eriol knew that he was the only one to blame, but he couldn’t help but feel incredibly jealous. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, then. Oh, I just forgot. Early class.”

“You’re leaving me to go to breakfast all by myself?”

“Why don’t you call Hiro?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and they just hung there.

Tomoyo gave him an odd look. “Um, okay? Doesn’t he have class now? The music study?”

“Yeah. Probably. See you later.” He backed out, clumsily, before turning and almost running out the door.

~

Looking at his suit in the mirror, trying to decide between a safe tie and the red tie that Ruby had sent him, he realized with a start that this marked the first school day in years that he hadn’t seen her. Of course, the fact that he was going to see her in the matter of a few hours made little difference. Conscientious avoidance was a new thing for him.

Not necessarily a good new thing, but still.

His last gift—a heart necklace from a local jeweler—sat on his living room table, neatly wrapped in pink paper. Next to it was his back-up gift, the ‘safer’ chocolates he had picked up on a whim.

  
They’d come so far together. He didn’t want to mess things up. His hand strayed towards the chocolates.

…but at the same time, he didn’t want what they had. He quickly grabbed the necklace and stuffed it in his pocket, moving towards the elevator before he had another chance to be indecisive.

The ride to the elevator and the walk to the salon was, for some reason, unbearably long. Once inside, he instantly singled her out—she was wearing a deep, blood red, the only one amidst a sea of pink.

He was about to go up to her when she turned and looked at him. Instantly, her face changed from pleasant to…hurt? It was fleeting, however, and the next second he found himself listening to the highly complex rules for unveiling the secret Valentines.

“…three people. They will sit here, and close their eyes. Their Valentines will come behind them, deposit the last gift, and then those three people will sit in the chairs. It should work. Any volunteers?”

Eriol kept his hand down, preferring to blend away. He kept an eye on her the entire time, as group after group went. She steadfastly refused to look at him, however, concentrating intensely on the people coming.

Hiro was amongst the last to go, and Eriol willed himself to watch. When it was time, Tomoyo…didn’t go up.

He sat up, confused. Hiro’s second gift had also been made by Tomoyo; Eriol had definitely recognized the handwriting. But the girl standing behind Hiro was a tall, lithe brunette, who shyly placed a wrapped box of chocolates on his lap.

Eriol glanced back at Tomoyo, who was watching them intensely. When Hiro stood up and embraced his secret Valentine, Eriol suddenly recognized her—her name was Meghan, and she was in Tomoyo’s fashion design class.

Tomoyo was making a last call for unclaimed presents, and Eriol raised his hand, his mind whirling. “I haven’t gone.”

Tomoyo nodded curtly. “Okay, anyone else?” She bent down to a girl sitting next to her , who whispered something in her ear, and then straightened up. “Oh, I have to go, too.”

Despite the awkwardness of sitting almost-alone on stage in front of some seventy-odd people, Eriol had to grin. This would be an interesting exchange. Plus, he wanted to see who his highly devoted Valentine was.

Tomoyo barely glanced at him on stage, instead beaming at the crowd. “Hi,” she finally managed.

“Hello.”

“Where were you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Where—oh, never mind.” She leant back and closed her eyes, her hands folded around her clutch.

Eriol shook his head slightly, and then did the same. When the announcer called out for Valentine’s to come on stage, he paused, then leant over and placed his gift in Tomoyo’s lap—

—at the exact same moment as she did the same.

Eriol’s eyes flew open when he made contact with her hand. She was looking at him, but not in a surprised manner. Her look seemed to say, “So?”

“You?”

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Two can play this game, you know.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she repeated, “You?”

Eriol turned to face her, ignoring the crowd. “Wait, but my presents…they were…”

“Lame? Yes, I was trying to throw you off.”

“But Hiro’s presents…”

“Meghan asked me to write out the cards, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

Eriol took a breath to try and regain composure. “Wait, you knew?”

“Like you didn’t?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

Now Tomoyo looked confused. “Really? Then why…I mean, I thought…”

“Thought what? And how did you know it was me?”

“Seductive Snickerdoodles? From the book Fifty Nifty Yet Thrifty Desserts? I gave that to Ruby.”

Eriol felt small. “Oh.”

“Exactly.”

There was a pause. Eriol took the opportunity to glance around, noting with satisfaction that their conversation had begun to bore the crowd, which was steadily dispersing. When he turned back, Tomoyo had that look on her face again, the hurt one.

Old Eriol would have done the civil thing and pretended like it didn’t exist. New Eriol, however, had to confront it. Convincing himself that he was only interested for the sake of this new, improved himself, Eriol leant closer. “Are you okay?”

“Are you positive you didn’t know?”

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Why were you avoiding me?”

Eriol paused.

~

Later, Eriol wouldn’t be able to describe the next moment, but when he tried, it went sort of like this:

Suddenly, he knew how the conversation would play out—

Why are you avoiding me?

I’m not.

Then where have you been?

Just around.

Avoiding me around?

No, just around.

Oh.

At least, he had reckoned, that’s how old Eriol would have responded and ended the conversation. But new Eriol had also suddenly understood. New Eriol knew how he would finish the conversation:

Why are you avoiding me?

I…well, I’m not sure.

So you were. Avoiding me.

Sort of. Not on purpose.

What does that mean?

I guess…I thought you…Hiro…I…

What?

It’s nothing you did.

Then why?

Tomoyo, I think I love you.

But simultaneously, Eriol—normal Eriol, not old or new—had realized that there was no old Eriol or new Eriol. They were all the same Eriol, all mixed up. And since normal Eriol wasn’t stiff like old Eriol but also wasn’t as forthcoming as new Eriol, there had been only one thing left for him to do.

He had leant over and kissed her.

She had kissed him back.

Ruby Moon in his head smiled, satisfied.


End file.
